What If This Storm Ends?
by Aimlessly Aimee
Summary: Something doesn't feel right when Emma wakes up alone the morning after Graham proposes. He leaves a note in their dresser drawer that leads her deep into the woods, the circle of his arms, and an unforgiving accident. Emma/Graham AU.


_It seems like I'm physically incapable of writing two Gremma fics in a row. So here, have some angst._

**Disclaimer: **_I still don't own OUAT. I'm pretty upset about it. I also don't own a bicycle, the song this fic refers to, or other cool things like that._

* * *

_What if this storm ends, and I don't see you as you are now, ever again?_

There were no words for the way he moved against her in his sleep. His hands sought her own even in his dreams and his lips moved with words she could never quite make out. Emma didn't sleep on nights like these, nights where the noise of the storm was the only thing loud enough to compete with the noise of her thoughts.

Looking at him, studying him in the dark, was the only real way she could ever manage to calm down. A flash of lightning lit up the line of his jaw and the set of his lips, paled the warm brown tones of his hair and the stubble around his chin.

_The perfect halo of gold hair and lightning set you off against the planet's last dance._

She murmured a goodnight against his forehead, and he whispered his own against the bare skin of her left shoulder.

* * *

Emma woke to the steady sound of rain falling against the windows. She rolled over on her side, reaching for Graham's shoulder even though she still felt half-asleep. His warmth beside her was fast-becoming the only constant in her life, and it was a constant she was loathe to go without. But her fingers were met with empty air when she reached out into the darkness where his body should've been.

That wasn't right. Emma knew both of them had some lone-wolf tendencies to work out, but they always crawled into bed together, always buried themselves under the covers and against each other's skin to ward off the chill of the early autumn air.

So where was he?

Emma opened her eyes. She couldn't make out his outline on the other side of the bed, and she couldn't see the shadow of his body in the dark like this.

A funny feeling twisted her stomach into a knot when she called out to the dark. He didn't answer. She could hear the beat of her heart in her ears and the static from the tv in the living room - but when she crawled out of bed and threw on a t-shirt to go investigate, his sleeping figure wasn't curled up on the couch. Worry stirred in her chest. She turned towards the door - it was unlocked, and open a crack like he'd forgotten to shut it. Maybe something had happened at the station. Maybe he'd had to go back on an emergency call.

His boots were missing from their spot by the door, and his jacket - the dark one with the collar as red as blood - was gone from its place over the reclining chair. That worried her. He would've woken her up if there'd been an emergency. He would've told her if he was going on a walk. Something was going on.

She moved towards the phone in the kitchen, dialing the number for her parents' apartment before her mind could catch up with what her fingers were doing. They shook as the phone rang and rang. Come on. Pick up. Pick up.

"Emma?" Her father's groggy voice greeted her after the fourth ring.

"Dad? I need your help." She gripped the counter near the sink for support - she felt dizzy, nauseous, like she would fall over if she didn't hold onto something.

"Honey, what is it? Do you need me to come over?" She could hear the panic in her father's voice - it mirrored her own when she said,

"I - I don't know. Graham's gone. I don't know where he went but I don't have a good feeling about it." She tried to swallow her fear when she said, "I think…I think something happened to him", but she could hear her voice cracking as the fear finally set in.

"Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Your mother and I are coming over, alright?" She could hear rustling in the background, like he was throwing on a jacket, or maybe a pair of jeans. "Don't worry, Emma. We'll sort this out."

"Can you…can you stay on the phone with me?" She hated herself for how small and soft her voice had become.

"Of course, sweetheart. Here, I'll pass the phone over to your mother." More rustling as her father probably woke her mother up. She could hear them murmuring quietly for a moment or two before her mother's voice filled the phone.

"Emma? Emma, I know you're scared," Mary-Margaret took a deep breath before she said, "And I know you don't want to feel like you're losing him again. But I promise you we'll find him. We'll find him, okay?"

"Okay." Emma's voice broke on the word and she had to put the phone down for a minute to steady herself. She wouldn't cry - she wouldn't cry until she was buried in Graham's hug and the smell of the woods on his skin. She picked the cordless back up when she felt more in-control of her breathing and said, "I think we should search the woods first."

"Whatever you want, honey," Her mother said gently. She thought her parents must've been halfway to her house already - she'd heard a car door slam shut only minutes before. Her eyes flickered to the window over the sink, combing the dark outline of the trees for any sign of life. She thought she saw a flash of something moving in the brush beyond her backyard when a streak of lightning tore through the sky.

"I think - I think I need to go alone."

Emma thought she could hear her father murmuring, "that's my girl" even as her mother asked if she was sure.

"I'm sure. I'll take a flashlight and some water. Maybe my gun." She looked back to the woods when she said it - she thought she could see something moving between the trees again. "Definitely my gun."

"We'll be waiting for you when you get back."

Emma tried to swallow around the fear in her throat when she said, "But what if I don't come back?"

Her parents' voices echoed over the line when they said, in perfect unison, "Then we'll find you. We will always find you."

"I swear, if I hear you guys say that one more time, I'm coming after you."

The last thing Emma heard before she returned the cordless to its cradle was the sound of her parents' laughter. She tried to hold onto the sound of it as she moved to the bedroom in the dark. She could feel her pulse thrumming through her ears when she buried her hands underneath some of Graham's old shirts for her gun. A woodsy smell lingered in the air as Emma moved his clothes around - they smelled like cinnamon and smoke and something so ineffably Graham, it almost made her weak in the knees. But she wouldn't cry, she thought as she brought her gun out of the drawer. She set it on top of the dresser, safety still on, as she tugged on yesterday's jeans and laced her boots up to her knees. Something caught her eye when she moved to close the drawer - something that looked a lot like a letter.

She grabbed at it with trembling fingers and moved to sit on the bed to read it. His side of the bed still smelled like him - she had to resist the urge to curl up in the shadow of where he slept and not move again for days.

But Emma knew she couldn't do that. If he was really in trouble - and the note in her hands made her feel like he was - then she had to look for him. She had to find him. She was like her parents in that way - where they would always find each other, she would always find Graham.

Emma unfolded the note in her hands and scanned it as fast as she could as another streak of lightning ripped across the sky.

_My dearest Emma,_

_I found the wolf again. He led me to a place deep in the woods - a place I couldn't tell you how to find even if I tried. But it's beautiful, Emma. Come find it. Come find me._

_Yours,_

_Graham_

Emma's hands were shaking by the time she finished reading. She had a feeling this wasn't just a game of hide and seek. This was something so much bigger - and so much darker - than that. She grabbed her gun off the dresser and secured it to the holster she kept on her belt loop. She left their bedroom behind to go look for a flashlight under the kitchen sink, burying Graham's note in her pocket as she did. Flashlight found, she went to the fridge to go grab the bottle of water she'd promised her mom she'd take with her.

Once Emma had everything she needed, she made her way to the front door. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach that once she closed the door behind her, everything would change. She just hoped it wasn't the way she thought. She took a deep breath to steel herself against the thought of that - of coming back alone - and swung the door open wide in front of her.

The early morning air cut through her jacket as she moved to lock the door behind her. After the third time of trying, she threw her shaking hands back down at her sides and decided to leave the key under the mat so her parents could still get in.

Emma zipped her jacket up more fully as she walked across the porch and down the front steps. Something in her heart stirred at the sight of the porch swing rocking back and forth in the wind. Graham had proposed to her there just the night before. Even with last night's champagne still humming through her bloodstream, she could still remember the way he'd smiled as wide as the sky when she'd opened her birthday presents, could still remember the way his kiss warmed her all the way down to her toes when she'd said of course, she'd marry him.

She thought of the promise in his kiss as she passed the strawberries growing on the side of the house, still thought of it as a chill bit through her jacket when she crossed the backyard. The woods loomed tall and wide in front of her, looking every bit as great as terrible as the forest in Henry's book. Henry. There was a moment where Emma wanted him to be with her more than anything, but then the moment disappeared just as soon as it came when she heard a tree branch snap somewhere in front of her.

Jerking her head in the direction of the noise, she tried to calm the rapid pulse of her heart in her chest by moving the glow of her flashlight over the forest floor. The rain was coming down in sheets at this point, and the cold cut right through her.

"Hello?" She felt a little stupid calling out into the dark, felt like the girl in the movie who always died first.

"Emma."

She thought she heard her name in the whisper of the trees and the snap of another branch. It was enough to make her shiver as she moved deeper into the woods.

"Graham? Where are you?" Emma thought she could hear his boots splash in a puddle somewhere in front of her, swore she could hear his laugh echo across the river that ran parallel to where she stood.

She followed the sound of his footsteps as they led her deeper into the woods, half-wondering if it was really him at all. He'd never told her where he was, and he'd never really said if it was even him. It should've worried her a little. It should've worried her a lot. But she thought she'd run out of fear almost an hour ago when she'd woken up without him.

But she was so, so wrong.

A funny feeling twisted her stomach into a knot again as she neared the river. The rain was coming down at an angle now, finding its way into her jacket and down her shirt where the zipper had caught. She tried to ignore how it stung her skin as it trickled down her shirt, how it left her knuckles white and frozen, but she was so cold it was getting hard to concentrate.

Emma thought she heard someone saying her name again. They were closer to the water than she was, and she thought she saw a flash of their jacket through the tree line.

"Graham? I didn't really think an early morning hike was part of the plan when you wanted me to marry you." She made her way down the riverbank slowly, not wanting to slip in the mud. It looked like it'd mingled with something else in the rain - something that looked a hell of a lot like blood.

She tried not to think about it when she said, "Maybe we could go on a walk with my parents when the storm stops, okay?"

"That sounds like a plan," came a voice a ways behind her. Emma turned towards it, gasping when she realized it was Graham. Just for a minute, the silver-forked sky lit him up like a star, like the beacon of a lighthouse in the dark. She could see every crease in his jacket, every curl of his hair, every raindrop in his eyelashes.

_The perfect halo of gold hair and lightning set you off against the planet's last dance._

Graham was hanging back under the trees, where it was harder for the wind to cut through his clothes. Emma met him there, shivering a little as she threw her arms around his neck. He pulled her into a kiss that made her shiver even more, but more from the warmth of him against her than the sheets of rain falling around them.

She pulled back to catch her breath, pressing his forehead against his before she said, "Graham! Jesus, I've been looking all over for you. Are you okay?" She ran her hands from his neck to the sides of his face, pulling away a little to look him over.

"I'm okay, Emma. Promise," Graham murmured as he brought her in for a hug. Her knees went weak when he brought his lips to her ear to whisper, "I have something to show you."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"Well, it's a bit of a walk from here, but if you wanted to wait for it to stop raining a little-"

"I think I can manage," Emma said with a smile as they made their way out from behind the trees.

"Close your eyes for me."

She did.

He laced his fingers through the spaces between hers as he led her somewhere she couldn't see. Her stomach twisted into a knot again at the revelation - but it wasn't a knot of fear this time. Their shoulders brushed every now and then as they walked. The silence that settled between them was so comfortable, it was hard for her to find the strength to break it. There were so many things she wanted to say, needed to say, but she couldn't find the strength to voice them.

The ground beneath her feet grew rough and steep after a few more minutes of walking - she almost wanted to open her eyes to see where the hell they were going, but settled on asking instead.

"You'll see in a minute, love," He let go of her hand when they neared the top of the incline.

"Graham? Hey, wait-" Emma stretched a hand out into the darkness before her to reach for his shoulder. But just like hours before, she was met with only empty air where his body should've been.

"Graham?"

Her eyelids flew open, worry springing to life in her chest like a second heartbeat when he didn't answer.

"Graham?" Her voice got more frantic when she didn't see him anywhere around her.

"You don't have to yell, love," came his warm voice in her ear. "I was just picking you an apple." He made a move to stand in front of her, spreading his arms out to the sides as if to say "see? I'm safe." His smile had her half-way convinced he really was okay. "You know, I've never seen anything grow around the toll bridge. Things are changing around here, and whether you believe it or not, it's all because of y-"

Graham slid in the mud, the ground underneath his feet still too soft from the storm. She could see him scrambling to grab onto something, anything, before he got any closer to the drop-off. And then he was tumbling end over end towards it and Emma couldn't run fast enough to grab him before he tumbled over the edge.

She raced after him, sinking down to her knees in the mud to try to grab his hand better. He'd caught himself on a tree root that'd been growing out of the edge of the cliff, but something twisted in her stomach when she realized it wouldn't hold his weight for very long.

Emma leaned down a little further, throwing her hands out to grasp his own over the tree root. She could hear it starting to snap under Graham's grip, and she thought he was trying to be strong for her when he smiled up into her face.

"Don't you smile at me like you're going to die, Graham Humbert." She held his hands tighter. "This is not the Titantic, and I am not about to let go."

"But when I do die - which I think I might pretty soon - I'm glad I at least get to go looking into your eyes." He gave her that smile again, the one that was soft and sad and smoldering and so ineffably Graham.

Even the rolling thunder over their heads couldn't compare to the shrill sound of Emma's scream echoing off the water and the trees as Graham's hands slipped out of hers and he fell into the darkness of the ravine below.

_What if this storm ends, and I don't see you, as you are now, ever again?_

* * *

**fin**


End file.
